Love Quantified
by Trust-Spooky
Summary: When Dave came back to the BAU he wasn't expecting to fall in love.  This is the story of how love found him.
1. Chapter 1

1.

David Rossi wasn't a man of too many words, but he was always honest with himself, always knew what to say. He didn't hide from his own emotions or pretend to be anything but what he was. But now, when it was most important, he didn't know how to put what he felt into words. His emotions were too powerful; he'd never felt anything so all-consuming yet tentative.

His forehead thudded painfully onto his desk. "Some writer I am."

He didn't understand why he had the sudden urge to write it all down, but damn if his fingers weren't itching. He cursed under his breath and lifted his head to stare at his computer. His editor had finally browbeaten him into using one instead of his beloved typewriter, which now sat dejected on an end-table next to the couch behind him.

He swung his chair around to look at it. It stared back, somehow both forlorn and aloof. He felt ridiculous. He was in the middle of a Mexican standoff and he was pretty sure the typewriter was winning.

Mudgie lifted his head off his paws and wined at him, tail thumping the floor.

"Silence, you." His tail wagged harder. "You know, no one else will read it. I don't _have _to save it on the computer." Damn it, he was talking to himself. Well, Mudgie was listening, but Dave was pretty sure the dog wasn't going to respond. He eyed his friend.

"You think I should use the typewriter, don't you?" Nothing.

"Fine." He swung back to his laptop, turned it off, set it out of the way, and walked over to the typewriter and hefted it up. It was _heavy_; an old Underwood that his brother had given him for his birthday over 25 years ago. He snorted in derision. For his twenty-fifth birthday, actually.

He set it as carefully as possible on the desk, perfectly in front of his chair. Settling down he ran his fingers over the keys he remembered fondly, like an old lover he had explored in the dark, her secrets known only to the pads of his fingers. He quickly inserted a sheet of paper then glanced down at Mudgie who had resettled next to his chair.

"Better start at the beginning, huh boy?" All he got in response was the sleepy snort of a content animal.

"I knew I should have gotten a cat. Beginning it is then." He soothed his hesitations and began, instantly set at ease by the auditory and tactile sensation of pounding out his thoughts.

_I went back to the BAU hoping to close parts of my past that had been unanswered for twenty years. And I did; I closed cases, reestablished friendships, and addressed my past failures. But I got more than I expected, a lot more. A family. Even when I was happy in my three marriages I never had the sense of family that I found with the BAU. It's a strong and heady thing and leads a man to drop his guard, to share parts of himself that he thought were safely locked away, to hope for things a fifty year old man should be too old to hope for._

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><p><strong>AN:** This is definitely a WIP. I'll try to finish and update quickly, but I can't guarantee the muse will cooperate.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm really sorry for the wait between chapters. My university classes are insanely busy right now, but I hope you enjoy!**

_I thought I knew what I was getting into when I came back, thought I knew how it was going to be. But everything was different. Instead of the BSU it was the BAU, instead of the damn bunker the 'team' actually had offices. Then there was the sexy 'media liaison' and the terrifying computer girl who was _NOT _a researcher. _

_The first month I had a shadow everywhere I went. I finally drew the line after Reid followed me into the men's room two floors up, the whole time asking about my interviews with Charles Manson. The kid was just too damn curious. _

_Morgan was an interesting character; skeptical, but excellent at his job. He was full of contradictions: fiercely loyal and supportive, but the consummate Alpha male; open and warm with kids, but shy of long term relationships; a man who didn't trust, yet inspired it in all his coworkers and friends._

_Hotch was Hotch, solid and in charge. Even as his personal life crumbled around him, he was determined to rid the world of Unsubs. He spent more time in the office doing paperwork than he used to, but he hadn't forgotten how to enjoy a good drink and relax. I was glad to renew our friendship even if it meant we both were brutally honest with each other. _

_Then there was Emily. I learned pretty quickly that she couldn't be pinned down. One minute she was shy and flushed with sweaty palms and an eager beaver face, and the next she was cool and professional, working to get the job done efficiently and thoroughly. I discovered she was a complete nerd who could challenge even Reid. But she was also cultured and proper, a true politician's daughter. She flirted with Morgan, nerded with Reid, squealed over ridiculous girl stuff with JJ and Garcia, but also drank Scotch like a champ. She confused the hell out of me and drove me absolutely crazy. So I avoided her, or tried to._

_I'm not exactly what you might call a 'team player' and definitely prefer to work alone or with a few trusted individuals. The only one I truly trusted in the BAU was Aaron and I was okay with keeping it that way. But the Universe always seemed to have different ideas. It wasn't until Indy that I realized that the others even _liked_ me. Morgan came because he wanted to know what I was up to and JJ joined because she knew she was needed. It was breathtaking, however, to realize that Emily Prentiss actually cared; she was there because I was. I had a hard time avoiding her after that._

Dave snorted in derision at the last sentence stamped out on the page. He pushed away from the desk and the writing in front of him and paced out of his office. As he walked down the bright hallway covered with pictures of his past, he was flooded with memories. He hadn't had a hard time avoiding her, He had an impossible time avoiding her. Not only had Hotch paired them together more often, but they became friends somehow. They enjoyed a quick joke or a long conversation on the flights home. When Hotch sent them on a custodial they fought the whole trip over the music and only settled on Jazz in the last ten minutes of the drive.

When Dave finally reached his kitchen he strode straight to the fridge and had to chuckle when the *shwoosh* of the door opening brought the dog clattering to his side, tail wagging frantically. He pulled a beer from the shelf and looked down at the mutt.

"Sorry pal, but this is all mine." Mudgie's tail slowed as the fridge closed, but his friend followed Dave out the glass doors to the grassy backyard. He settled on the wooden steps with a groan and enjoyed the beautiful day before him. The sky was a brilliant blue with a depth that only came with summer. The few clouds he could see were light and fluffy and floated quietly on the soft breeze that kept the temperature bearable. He heard the bark of a happy dog and watched as Mudgie found his favorite worn tennis ball behind the tree twenty feet away. And when the wet, slobbering mess was dropped at his feet five minutes later, he couldn't resist giving it a fling down the yard. He trusted his dog to bring it back, just as his dog trusted him to throw it again. It was a simple, but fulfilling understanding. The company was reassuring, the beer relaxing.

But the words on that page still in his office tickled the back of his mind. When Dave finally pushed himself off the porch and disposed of his bottle, he was drawn back to his typewriter and the story unfolding before him.

Dave rubbed his hand over his beard, trying to reorganize his thoughts. _I had a hard time avoiding her after that._

Too true. But…

_But it wasn't until Colorado that I realized that I cared. And then it was almost too late._


End file.
